The Watcher
by Randy Taylor
Summary: An abandoned kitten shows up in the Taylor family's yard. But soon after the kitten comes to live with them, some really strange things start happening. Please R&R!
1. Prologue: Emergency!

The Watcher Prologue

"Emergency!"

A/N: This takes place around a couple of weeks before the season 5 episode The Longest Day. But that doesn't mean I'll be following the same story line as the show did.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

Randy's POV

'Do you hear something?' I ask mom. She's sitting in the living room, sewing something. I'm at the table writing a paper for History. Brad, Mark, and dad are in the garage working on the hot rod. I really don't see what kind of enjoyment they get out of that car.

'No, I didn't hear anything. What did the noise sound like?' mom asks.

'I don't know. It sounds like some kind of animal or something' I say. I just shake my head, and go back to concentrating on the essay. I'm probably just imagining things.

About thirty seconds later, I hear the sound again, a little louder this time.

'Now don't tell me you didn't hear that' I say to mom.

'No' mom replies. This is too weird.

'I'm going to check outside. It really sounds like some kind of animal is out there' I say, getting up from the table.

I head to the front door and open it. I don't see anything, so I venture further out into the darkness, eventually heading around the side of the house, to the backyard.

And there, right in the middle of the pool of light illuminating the backyard, is a small black kitten that appears to be on the brink of death. I run back inside to get mom.

'Mom, there's a kitten out in the backyard!' I shout. She puts down the blanket she's been working on, and follows me back outside.

'Get a blanket or something' I tell mom as I walk over to pick up the kitten. She does so, and we meet back inside the house. She's holding a baby blanket of Brad's. Together, we carefully wrap the kitten in the blanket, so it can hopefully get warmed up. As we do so, I notice there's blood on my hands and shirt from the kitten.

'What do we do now?' I ask as dad, Brad, and Mark come through the garage door. The kitten in my arms doesn't even respond to that.

'What do we do about what?' dad asks, looking concerned.

'Randy found a kitten outside in the yard' mom explains.

'Isn't there some sort of animal emergency room in Dearborn?' mom asks.

'I think so. What are you saying, we're going to take care of this animal?' dad asks.

'We have to! We can't just sit here and let it die!' I exclaim.

'Okay, okay, just calm down Randy. It's only about twenty minutes or so to Dearborn, so we could drive there tonight' dad says.

'Do you want to drive, or should I?' mom asks.

'Honey, the poor cat's been through enough. Let me drive' dad jokes. I give dad my best version of "the look". Mom does too.

'As I said, I'll drive. Randy, you'll have to set in the front seat of the car' dad says.

'Brad! Mark! You two need to get down here!' mom yells upstairs. They come running downstairs.

'What's the matter?' Brad asks.

'Your brother found a cat outside, and we need to take it to that animal hospital in Dearborn, and you two need to come with us' mom explains. They both head out to the garage and get into the car. Mom follows them, then me, and finally dad.

* * *

Later at the Animal Hospital

Randy's POV

Thank God, the kitten will survive. The doctor said someone must've abandoned the kitten at the curbside (no kidding!), and some sort of other animal attacked, which is why it was bleeding. It (he) is only about three months old, but is smaller than a typical cat of his age would be.

I'm just glad he'll survive. Now I just need a name for him.

* * *

A/N: This story isn't honestly what I sat out to write today. This blank document was supposed to be chapter 14 of Crash, but I just started writing this instead.

I still have two other stories planned, one of which, I swear on a stack of Bibles, is about Mark.

I know this doesn't seem like much of a story, and the title seems confusing right now, but you'll figure it all out if you keep reading.

Please R&R, as always, I'm anxious to hear what people think of my new story.

Thanks for reading, and thanks in advance for reviewing.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	2. 1: King Kong, Fay Wray, and Polynomials

The Watcher Chapter 1

"King Kong, Fay Wray, and Polynomials"

Randy's POV

'So, Randy, you've been spending a lot of time with that cat of yours, what's his name again, Andes?' Jeremy says.

'Jeremy, his name is Anders, and you know it. And besides, I'm just trying to show the little guy that not everybody in the world is a jerk' I say.

'You're losing it Taylor' he remarks with a smile.

'What if I am losing it? Then I could be one of those hermits who lives all alone out in the woods and has like twenty cats that follow him around all day and even sleep with him' I say.

'Is that legal in Michigan?' Jeremy jokes. I smile and shake my head.

'But seriously, I'm kind of starting to get worried about you. You haven't seemed like yourself the past week and a half. You've just been more withdrawn the normal' Jeremy says.

'Actually, I think you may be right. I've been more tired than normal too. It's probably just from devoting a lot of my time and energy to Anders though' I say.

'I don't know…' Jeremy says doubtfully.

'Just give it a couple of weeks and I'll be the same old Randy Taylor you've always known' I tell him.

'If you say so. Look, I have to get going. I promised my mom I'd be back by three to clean my room. Try to get some rest, okay?' he says.

* * *

Later On That Night

Tim's POV

'Randy sure has been spending an awful lot of time with that cat. I'm starting to get kind of worried about him' I say to Jill. I'm finishing drying the dishes, and she's at the counter, reading a magazine.

'What are you worried about? It's no different than when you get a new car. Remember when we got the Nomad? Remember the first three weeks? I had to practically serve your dinner to you in the garage. You ate, slept, and breathed that car' she says. What she said may be true, but nevertheless, I'm still worried about Randy.

'Yeah, I guess you're right' I admit.

'Tim, we've been married for 17 years. Haven't you figured out by now that I'm _always_ right?' Jill says.

'So what would that make me?' I ask.

'I'll give you a hint. It rhymes with song' she says.

'Umm… a ding dong?' I joke.

'No, no, King Kong?' I guess.

'Oh, right, if you're King Kong, then who would I be; Fay Wray?'

'Is this another one of those you're not old enough to understand arguments?' Randy asks as I just notice him standing there.

'No. Uh…Tim, why don't you tell Randy what all this was about' Jill says.

'Sure. See, you know how I'm all for more power and everything. Well, see, I'm trying to convince your mom that I'm King Kong, since he's the most powerful of all the primates and that's why I want to be King Kong because more power is good and then she said that she could be Fay Wray because she isn't that much for more power and Fay Wray obviously wasn't that powerful in King Kong and since your mom is satisfied with less power, being Fay Wray would be the perfect person for her to be, and that's when you walked in' I explain unsuccessfully.

'Tim, do you know how stupid that sounded?' Jill asks.

'No, I'm never really sure how stupid something is going to sound until I'm actually finished saying it. ' I say.

* * *

Randy's POV

I grab a soda from the refrigerator, and head back downstairs to my room, trying to figure out why exactly mom and dad are pretending to be two characters from a 1930's movie. It sounds like a bad Saturday Night Live skit.

I get back down to my room, take a deep breath, and start focusing on my math homework again.

Not long after I sit back down, Anders hops up onto my desk, and walks over beside my paper. Then he cocks his head to see what I'm writing on the paper. After a few seconds, he looks up at me.

'Boring stuff, huh?' I say. He blinks his eyes once as if to say "yes". Hey, I don't blame him. Multiplying and dividing polynomials isn't exactly riveting.

I take a sip of the soda and get back to work.

'Let's see, 50xy times 36xyz would be…' I mumble, trying and failing to do the math mentally. I consult my notes, and then my calculator. I try to go back to the work, but I can't shake this feeling that someone is watching me, even though Anders is the only one down here other than me. Or is he?

'Mark! Brad! If either of you is down here staring at me, stop it! It's really freaking me out' I shout. I grab a baseball bat, just incase whoever this person is isn't Mark or Brad, and begin searching every nook and cranny where anyone could possibly hide. I even check the laundry chute, but no one is down here. Just me and the cat. I'm just being paranoid. I sit back down and try to focus on math, but my mind keeps wandering.

'Music. I'll put on some music. That ought to help' I say to myself. I get up and put in Dave Matthews Band's new CD, Crash, and get the same creepy filling that someone is watching me that I had earlier. I spin around and scan the room, and see Anders sitting on my desk, watching my every move. He's probably just interested in what I'm doing. I guess it's true what they say, curiosity kill-. "Oh whatever, cats are just curious creatures" I tell myself.

I sit down for the thousandth time tonight at my desk while So Much to Say comes flooding out of the stereo's speakers. Even after I sit down, Anders keeps looking at me.

After another twenty minutes of working (it's a long assignment) I feel really tired, and it's not just fatigue from sitting here working on forty math problems. I notice that Anders still has to look away from me. He hardly even blinks. It's kind of creepy. When he sees me yawn and rub my eyes, he blinks twice and meows.

I yawn again. I look down at my watch and am shocked when I see what time it is. It's only 8:30 and I'm already tired. I contemplate bed, but then decide to hit pause on the stereo and go upstairs to watch some TV. Just not Tool Time though, because then I won't stand a chance of staying up past nine.

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the long wait between updates. I'll try to have the next one up sooner. (Yeah, right, how many times have you heard that one?)

So, in this chapter you obviously found out where I got the title from. (At least, I hope you did).

Please R&R, you never know, lots of reviews might get my butt in gear to update :P

Thanks for reading and thanks in advance for reviewing.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	3. Chapter 2: Hell Hath No Wrath

The Watcher Chapter 2

"Hell Hath No Wrath"

A/N: I'm going to jump ahead about a month and a half or so for this chapter. Enjoy.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

Randy's POV

'You know Randy, I've been thinking' dad says. I'm sitting on the couch watching TV, tired, just like I have been the past month and a half, and he's attempting to learn to play Solitaire on our new computer.

'What's the occasion?' I ask.

'Very funny. No, I've been thinking that maybe it's time I install one of those pet door things for Anders so somebody doesn't have to let him in or out every time' he says.

'I don't know dad, he's still a little young for that, not to mention the risk of him going out and getting hurt and nobody knowing about it soon enough to do anything' I say.

'Oh, come on Randy, he'll be fine. Besides, it would make for a great Tool Time season finale' dad pleads. Ah ha! I figured there was some kind of ulterior motive here that had something to do with Tool Time.

'So let me get this straight. You want me to approve the idea of you, Tim "the Toolman" Taylor, building something that my cat, poor little sweet Anders, will walk through on a daily basis?' I ask, half joking, half serious.

'Exactly' he answers.

'I don't think so dad' I say, imitating Al.

'Al will be here looking over my shoulder every step of the way' dad says.

'I thought mom banned you from doing any more Tool Times in the house anyways' I say.

'She didn't _ban_ me from it, she just said that I'm not…supposed to…do any Tool Time episodes…here' he says.

'Face it dad, she banned you from doing it. About the cat door, I don't know. I just don't know if I'm really comfortable with him being able to go in and out by his self. Let me think about it for awhile' I say.

'Okay, just let me know by next Monday so we have time to buy all the materials and everything' he says.

* * *

That Night

Anders' POV

I creep from the blanket on the floor of Randy's room that I've been sleeping on, and hop up on his bed. I get up by his chest, then lay down and curl up in a ball. We go through this same routine every night. He goes to bed, then once he's half asleep, I get up on the bed and go to sleep with him. Then in the morning, before he wakes up, I get down and go back to the blanket.

I know it sounds like I'm being secretive, and I guess I am, but I just don't know how he'd react if he knew this. I mean, Randy seems like a nice guy that I can trust, but then again, I thought I could trust J.C.

_Flashback_

'_Come on you stupid animal, those people who want to buy you will be here in a few minutes. You'd better not screw this business up for me, otherwise you'll regret it.'_

_Despite J.C.'s harsh words, I still don't move from the spot where my lifeless Mother's body is. It's been a little over a day now since hurt her, and I haven't moved ever since then. The three brothers and sisters, Ariel, Molina, and Diamond all keep telling me to get up from there and just move on in order to save myself. Easy for them to say, none of them are the runt of the litter, none of them almost died when they were born, none of them were as close to Mom as I was._

'_Come on ya damn little freak! Get up God damn it! I don't have time for you right now. The buyers are here.'_

_Diamond, Ariel, and Molina all go running after J.C. to the living room, but I stay out on the cold patio. I burrow even deeper into the protective, once warm (but now cold with death) body of Mom. I start crying once again just thinking about J.C. (which I've decided must be some kind of acronym for Jerk to Cats) throwing her down on the concrete out here like she's a stuffed animal or something. All because she wanted to get something to drink from him. Between the injuries she sustained from hitting the concrete at such a tremendous force, and the fact that she just gave birth not that long ago, she doesn't survive very long. Just before she dies, she looks me in the eyes and tells me that I am the only one who can stop J.C. from doing this to more cats. I find that hard to believe._

_My rumination is ceased by the sound of J.C. coming back through the patio. Uh-oh, this can't be good. Of course, with the him, nothing ever can be good._

'_You've done it now, you little bastard. If I'm lucky, those people won't report me for abusing you stupid animals. Oh, what's the matter, you want to be with your worthless mother? Okay, fine, I can do that much for you' he says. I suddenly fear for my life. He bends to pick me up. I struggle against him with all my might, but he succeeds. Then he puts me in a burlap sack, and breaks a couple of my ribs in the process._

_From there, I lose track of what happens. After spending a small amount of time in the trunk of his car, he takes the sack and me out and drops it to the ground. My head hits the concrete despite my efforts to keep it from doing so, and I lose consciousness._

_When I awake again, it's to searing pain in my thighs. Something, some sort of animal has me in its mouth! I start raising a racket that would scare even the most seasoned street cat, and whatever kind of beast it was released me from its jaws and left me. I'm bloody, cold, beaten, bruised, tired, and lonely and would love to succumb to Death's ever imminent presence. Then I remember my Mother's words. I'm the only one that can stop that…what was the word she used for him? Bastard? Well, whether it was bastard or not, I'm the only one that can stop him according to Mom, and she's not likely to lie to me._

_I try to find the opening to the burlap sack, but see none. The jerk must have tied the sack shut. Then I remember the bite marks that that animal left in me and the sack. I crawl over to them, put one paw on the spot right below the marks and put one paw through one of the holes and try ripping the hole bigger. It works, but soon the top of the hole is out of reach, and the hole still isn't big enough for me to fit through. I readjust my position inside the sack as best as I can, then try ripping the hole on the side. After God only knows how long, I manage to get the hole big enough I can the front part of my body through the hole. I must look like a wreck by now. I can feel my own blood, urine, and feces dried and caked on my once beautiful, silky, and clean coat. I have no idea how long it's been since J.C. put me in the sack. It has to have been a day at the very least._

_I poke my head through the hole I've created in the burlap sack, then realize that I'll have to put my feet out first otherwise I won't be able to go anywhere. I do so, then stick my head out and observe my surroundings. Maybe thirty feet away directly in front of me, I see a house. I don't know what kind of people live there, but of God has any mercy on me, they'll be kind, loving people._

_I try to take a normal step, but only fall over back into the burlap sack. I change my approach, and decide to try to crawl. It doesn't take long for my belly to get rubbed raw by the pavement. Before long, it starts to bleed as well._

_Somewhere along the way, the sack must have gotten caught on a rock or something, because at one point, I have to lay down on my side, and use my fore paws to try and free my hind legs from the damned sack. I know it's just a figure of speech, but I think in this case, the sack should be damned._

_I'm on grass at this point, so at least I don't have to worry about wounding my stomach any more._

_I stand up now, and before I can even attempt to take a normal step, fall back over. I'm almost to the house I saw before. I go back to crawling. Under other circumstances, the tickle of the blades of grass might feel good, but not today._

_Once, before, I get to the house, I crawl into a small hole. It catches me off guard and flips me over backwards. I sink my claws into the still somewhat hard March ground, and pull myself back up to a crawling position._

_I resume my trek to the house. By now, it's dark outside, and I hope it isn't so late that everyone inside the house has gone to bed._

_I lay down to rest not for the first time in my small but immensely tiring sojourn. If I can just get to the doors, then maybe someone will see me or hear me. I wish, also not for the first time, that death would just go ahead and take me._

_I was sure that the Grim Reaper had heard me when I hear a loud, rumbling noise from somewhere._

_I start cussing the noise out loud; if nothing else, just to try to fool myself into thinking that I managed to scare whatever evil being that made the noise off._

_I talk until I no longer have enough strength, voice, and breath to do so. It's then that it truly dawns on me that I've failed Mother. I realize that I'm not going to be able to make it up to the doors of the house. I realize that death is nearer than I thought for me._

_I'm just about to give in to the Darkness when someone comes out of the house, and over to me. He says something that I heard but couldn't process, then picks me up in a blanket. Something about His touch comforts and reassures me._

_Soon enough, I'm back in another car, being taken some place, being held by my Savior. All throughout the ride, He keeps talking and whispering to me, telling me that everything will be alright. For some reason, based on absolutely nothing, I believe Him when He says this._

_That night while I'm in the veterinarian's office, He stays with me. He stays awake while I go back and forth between being asleep and awake. I lay my chin on one of His reassuring, warm, smooth hands. He leaves it there for hours. Even though He surely must have been in pain, He never moves it. It's like He's trying to transfer His own life energy from His body to mine. Several times, the woman who must be His Mother offers to sit with me and let Him get some rest. Each time, He refuses._

_Between his silent outbursts of crying that night, He tells me about Himself, who He is, about His family._

_After one such cry, He sets His other hand, which is covered in fresh tears, up on my bed. I move my head just enough to reach His hand, and lick the tears off His hand. He notices this, then bows His head and whispers a prayer for me. I silently join Him on the "amen". After all, there has to be some superior being responsible for letting me survive this much and for this long. Who knows, maybe Randy truly is my Savior._

_In this moment, watching the rising sun, I begin plotting how Randy and I will together put an end to J.C. Smith. Not just to his breeding mill business, but to the man himself. He is going to learn that this is one cat that you don't mess with. And all cats know how the saying goes. Hell hath no wrath like that of a pissed off cat. Okay, maybe I changed it a little bit, but it sure is true._

_End flashback._

I must've dozed off sometime through the night. Instead of hopping down from the bed like I have been doing, I decide to stay up there and let Randy in on our little secret. If He really is who I think He is, He'll be happy that I'm up here with Him.

* * *

A/N: Now the story seemingly about nothing is about something.

I hope no one got too upset or offended about some of the things that happened to Anders in this chapter. Truthfully, it upset me when I was writing it to think that some people out there would do things like what J.C. did.

Let me know what you think about having Anders' POV throughout the story. It wouldn't all be flashbacks like this, but I think it's kind of a cool idea.

Please read and review. It's much appreciated.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	4. Chapter 3: Puss 'n Boots

The Watcher Chapter 3

"Puss 'n Boots"

Randy's POV

I open my eyes and see two big green eyes staring back at me.

'Mrrow' Anders says.

'So, you finally decided it was alright to spend the night with me, huh?' I ask. When I go to move him to the bed so I can sit up, he flinches.

'It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. I won't let anything bad happen to you, although you might debate that after you hear what mom has in store for you' I tell him.

'We'll talk about that later. Now, how about some breakfast?' I ask.

'Meow' Anders says, then hops (or maybe stumbles is a more accurate word) from the bed, and looks at me as if to say "well come on, what are you waiting for?"

He watches me while I put on a shirt and a pair of jeans, then I follow him upstairs to the smell of…could it be? Yes, burnt French toast! My favorite breakfast item next to charred scrambled eggs.

* * *

Later That Day

Randy's POV

'Anders, we need to have a talk about something that mom wants to have done to you' I begin. He blinks once and waits for me to continue.

'There's this procedure that vets can do to an animal that they like to go ahead and do when an animal reaches your age. It's sometimes known as being fixed. What will happen, and we're talking about mom here, so you know it'll happen whether you or I want it to or not, is the vet will basically remove your testicles.' Anders starts to squirm in my arms. I can't say that I blame him. I wouldn't want to talk about somebody I've only seen once before in my life removing those particular parts.

'What that will do is eliminate your urge to have sex. I'm not going to lie to, you probably will experience some pain after the surgery is done. The vet would probably either give you numbing medicine or anesthesia for the surgery. Just remember one thing: If it was up to me, you wouldn't be having this done.' We finish up our talk and I let him down from my lap. I sure hope giving my kids the sex talk is easier for me than that was.

I get up from the couch and walk over to the door where Anders is at and open it to let him out, instructing him not to go far. After that, I busy myself with my chores since it's a Saturday.

After about two hours of dusting, cleaning, picking up, throwing out, scrubbing, and laundering, I'm upstairs getting the towels from the bathroom when I hear a cat howling outside. I drop the towels and run to the nearest window to see what's going on. I can't help but laugh when I see. Anders is down in the backyard, and there's another cat down there who I guess he managed to talk into being his first.

'Anders! What are you doing?' I yell. He ignores me and starts to mount the other cat. Thank God mom isn't home to see this. I can just imagine her sitting Anders down to tell him that he needs to make sure he isn't taking advantage of the other cat, and to make sure that he realizes that he's only one of two partners in the relationship, and therefore needs to respect her opinion and decision, and if she doesn't want to have sex, it's wrong for him to force her. Now, I agree with all that, except for two things. One, he's a cat, and two, I'm sure that the other cat is just as horny as he is. However, on the bright side, if mom did set him down to have this talk, he'd probably be so turned off about sex that he wouldn't need to be neutered because he'd be turned off from sex forever. I close the blinds and shake my head. I got a little too close to seeing what kitty porn would be like. I don't think the world is ready yet to see something like Puss 'n Boots at a video store.

* * *

A/N: Puss 'n Boots. Hmm. The images that come to mind are…well, let's not go there.

Anyways, I finally got around to updating after almost three months. Sorry it took so long.

By the way, just in case I got any information wrong in this chapter, remember, I'm not a vet. Even though I've been away for long enough to have become one, probably. No, I'm just kidding about that. I'm sure everyone has to work very hard to be a vet, and thank you to all of you who do.

I hope that all of you out there who are still reading will also review.

Thanks for doing both.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	5. Ch 4 Close Encounters of the Canine Kind

The Watcher Chapter 4

"Close Encounters of the Canine Kind"

Randy's POV

'Come on, Anders. We should've left ten minutes ago. I thought we agreed that you wouldn't make this any harder for me than it had to be' I say. The guilt trip at the end doesn't coax him out.

'You have to come out from under there eventually' I say. Then I get to thinking, the scary part is, a cat with as much determination and bullheadedness as Anders probably would stay under there either until the coast is clear or it didn't matter anymore. Not that I'm going to give him any ideas.

'Randy! Come on, we need to get going!' mom yells from upstairs. I ignore her, because making more noise is only going to bother the poor cat even more.

'Alright then, we'll play it your way. If you don't want to come out, then I'll just crawl under there with you' I say, pulling out the large, clear, plastic storage boxes from under there. They're those kinds of boxes moms use to save some piece of "art" that their children made in the first grade.

Anders makes no attempt to move, so I crawl up under my bed. He looks at me like I'm out of my mind. Some people would probably argue that I am. Those people obviously don't know what it's like to have a cat.

I start petting Anders and talking to him in the most soothing voice I can muster. Just when I'm about ready to make my move and get him out from under there, mom comes down the stairs and opens up the sliding door with a clatter that makes Anders retreat further into his corner.

'What are you doing Randy?' mom asks.

'I'm trying to get Anders out from under my bed, and I was doing a pretty good job of it too, until you slid the door open' I inform her.

'Anders, if you'll come out here for me, and cooperate with us on the way to the vet, I'll give you a can of tuna' I whisper. His ears perk up at the mention of his favorite food.

'You have to go get the operation done first, though, otherwise there's no tuna to be had' I said, still whispering. At this, he relinquishes himself to my control. I roll over onto my side, and set him down out from under my bed. When he looks up and sees mom, he starts to scamper back under the bed, but I block him from doing so. Mom picks him up to put him in the pet carrier, and Anders starts yowling like his tail is being ripped off. He does so all the way upstairs, and out to the car, attracting stares from neighbors who look at us like they're going to call the local ASPCA branch.

'We're just taking him to the vet' mom announce once to the prying eyes.

After the ten minute ride to the vet's office, both mom and I are about ready to pull a Van Gogh and cut our ears off.

I get out of the car and go around to the other side to grab the carrier. Mom goes on ahead to hold the door open for me.

As soon as we get inside and Anders smells and hears the other animals, he starts thrashing around in the carrier. I sit down on one of the wooden benches next to a woman holding a small carrier with a gerbil (or maybe a hamster, I never could really tell the difference; all I know is one is bigger than the other, and I'm not even 100 percent sure of that). I let go of the carrier once it's safely on the floor, which turned out to be a mistake. As soon as I let go, the carrier starts moving across the floor, as if possessed. The woman with the mystery animal looks at the carrier, then me, then the carrier, and so on and so forth.

I drag Anders back over to me, and place one foot on top, applying just enough pressure to keep him in place.

'He's not even that big, just 6 months old' I remark when the woman scoots down the bench as the thrashing begins anew.

'Alright Randy, he's all checked in. One of the techs will take him back in a minute' mom says, sitting down between me and Ms. Hamster/Gerbil.

The door right next to our bench opens, and someone comes walking out with a fully grown Great Pyrenees. It starts barking at the carrier when it notices Anders. Anders starts merrowing back and jumping around inside his carrier in an effort to scare off the dog. I push the carrier under the bench (using my spare foot) as far as it will go. The dog, still determined to get to Anders, tries to get between my legs, which are now in front of the carrier. I stick the sole of my shoe up against the dog's snout. The dog still won't back down. I look up at the owner. They're off in la-la land, looking at brochures.

'Excuse me, sir, could you keep your dog aw-ouch!' I shriek when the dog clamps its teeth onto my shoe, obviously getting my foot in the process. The shriek finally attracts the owner's attention. He pulls back on the leash, and the dog finally releases its teeth from my foot, but is still clamped onto my shoe. The owner releases the leash to try to get my shoes out of his dog's mouth. Big mistake. The dog drops the shoe and pounces after the now perfectly accessible and vulnerable carrier. A man sitting on the other side of the room jumps up and grabs the leash and pulls the dog to the other side of the room. The man and the dog's owner wrestle the dog out the door. It's only then that I notice the pain in my foot and look down to see my sock slowly turning red. I hope to God that dog has had its rabies vaccinations.

'You can bring your cat on back, and we can have one of the vets take a look at your foot, too' the office manager says. I let mom take Anders back, and I follow behind, limping. On my way back, I look down at the hamster/gerbil and see it lying down, still breathing, but there is now a small puddle of liquid in the carrier. I can't say that I blame it, whatever it is.

* * *

A/N: I'll have Anders' POV next chapter. In fact, that will probably be all there is next chapter.

Just so everyone knows, no, I don't really know the difference(s) between a hamster and gerbil.

Anyways, please read and review!

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	6. Chapter 5: When Anders Met Barney

The Watcher Chapter 5

"When Anders Met Barney"

Ander's POV

After I get taken to the back room, and away from Randy, I get put in a cage. The room the cages are in is big, filled with lots of strange animals, and noisy. I move to the back of my cage and curl up in a ball in the corner and try to make myself as small as possible until Randy comes to get me.

'What's that fur ball doing in _my _cage?' a passing cat demands in a gruff tone. I assume I'm the fur ball.

'Leave him alone Sarge. It's not like he chose to be put in your cage' a Tabby to my right comments.

'You'd better not make any messes in there, cotton ball' the cat, Sarge, remarks as he gets put in another cage.

'Just ignore him. He's been coming here for his entire eighteen year life, and thinks he owns the place. My name's Barney' says a solid black cat to my left.

'That's an odd name for a female cat. No offense intended' I say.

'None taken. See, the human that named me is only four, and he's real big into Barney the dinosaur, so that's what my name wound up being. What's your name?' she says.

'My name's Anders. It was the name of some character in some book that Randy was reading at the time he found me' I explain.

'Anders. I like that name. So, is this your first time here to see Dr. Weech?' Barney asks.

'No, I was here the night Randy found me' I say. I then proceed to explain the whole ordeal with J.C., the burlap sack, Randy finding me, and everything that's happened since then.

'And you're only eight months old? I'm one and a half, and I probably won't ever have half that much happen to me' Barney says.

'What are you in for?' she asks a little later, changing the subject.

'I'm getting "fixed", whatever that means. Randy tried explaining it, but I didn't really understand it. What about you?' I ask.

'I'm in for a checkup. I'm about a month pregnant' Barney says.

'Congratulations' I say.

'Thank you' she says. We sit and talk most of the rest of the afternoon until I get taken out of my cage and back to have my surgery done.

* * *

Ander's POV

Ugh. I feel like hell. The last thing I remember is getting some kind of shot. I look around me. I'm back in my cage, but now the lights are out, and everyone is asleep. I crawl (I feel a little too dizzy to try walking) to the front of the cage and crane my neck around to my left and try to see what time it is. 2:37 on the dot.

'I see you're finally awake' Barney says, catching me by surprise and making me jump slightly.

'What are you doing up?' I ask.

'I'm trying to meditate. It helps keep my mind off of the cravings I'm having for fish flakes' she says.

'Why just flakes and not the whole fish?' I ask.

'No, silly, not flakes _of _fish, fish flakes are a kind of food that humans feed their pet fish' she laughs.

'Oh' I mumble.

'Don't feel bad. I think you're cute when you make mistakes like that' Barney says.

'But that's what I don't want. I want other cats to think of me as being serious, not cute' I say.

'You know what? That's what makes you a cat, and not a dog' she says.

'Don't get me started on dogs. Especially after that one bit Randy's foot trying to get to me. On the bright side, that dog will never be able to think of his mother in the same way again after what I said to him' I laugh.

'You'd better be careful, if you wake up Sarge, that dog will be the least of your worries' Barney advises.

'Does he seriously think he runs this place?' I ask.

'Yes. He's been coming here since before Dr. Smith was a part of the practice' she says.

'I heard last time that she'd been here for a while' I say.

'Ten years, according to Sarge' Barney says.

'Well, I'm going to try to get some sleep before everyone gets here to feed us' Barney adds a few minutes later.

I go back to my corner, turn my back to Sarge, and try to get a little more rest myself. I do sleep for a time, but fitfully. My nightmares are filled with visions of JC, Mom's dead body, and finally the worst of them all, the image that brings me awake: Randy's dead body.

I look at the clock for the third time tonight. 5:02.

Not that Barney isn't nice, but, thank God I only have to spend one more night in this place. Maybe that's not the problem. Maybe my problem is that I'm away from Randy. I think maybe that's what my dream was trying to tell me. It was trying to tell me that I need to be there with Randy to protect him. But protect him from what?

* * *

A/N: Protect Randy from what indeed.

Sorry it's taken so long to update, but if it hasn't been one thing, it's been the other. First, we adopt two cats from the shelter on a trial basis, which turns out to be a complete disaster. We had to take them back last Monday, while we still had our house in one piece. Then I start writing, and on Wednesday come down with the stomach virus from hell, _while _trying to deal with three kittens we got (they're working better than the shelter cats, but still, they _are_ kittens).

Which reminds me, one of them, Angel, felt it necessary to add this to this chapter: ,.vb.,mmnxvxcvxvc.

Anyways, please read and review.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	7. Chapter 6: Randy's Four Legged Shadow

The Watcher Chapter 6

"Randy's Four Legged Shadow"

Randy's POV

'I know you hate the carrier Anders. Just give me three seconds to get in the house, then I'll let you out' I say to the thrashing figure inside the pale blue cat carrier.

I set the carrier down in the kitchen and kneel down to undo the latch on the front. I expect him to make a run for it and hide the rest of the night. Instead, he strolls out and starts rubbing up against me.

'No, I didn't forget about the tuna I promised you' I laugh. Apparently he did, however, because as soon as I say tuna, he runs to the pantry. I follow him, and grab the can opener and Anders' food bowl on the way. I give him half the can and promise him he can have the other half tomorrow.

I then take the carrier out to the garage. As soon as I do, Anders leaves his tuna and follows me into the garage.

'What's the matter, is there something in your tuna?' I ask. He gives his head a hearty shake that most people would probably write off as being an itch, but I don't think so.

'Is that grey cat at the door bothering you again?' I ask, heading back to the kitchen. Once I get back to the kitchen, Anders goes back to eating his tuna.

'If nothing's wrong, then I'm going to go downstairs and do some homework. I'll leave the door open so you can come down if you want' I say.

I get about two steps away before Anders is right behind me.

'You need to finish your tuna' I say. He just stares at me. 'I'm not leaving you. I'll be in the same house as you, just in a different room.' Reluctantly, he walks back into the kitchen to his bowl.

I go downstairs, and on the way step on a missing nail dad warned me about. As soon as he hears my exclamation of pain, Anders comes running to see what happened.

'I just stepped on a nail Anders; it's not like I was murdered or something' I assure him. He folds his ears back at the word murder.

Anders follows me the rest of the way down the stairs, and sits with me the whole time I do my work. Just as I'm finishing the last of my science (real mind numbing stuff, too), mom comes down to tell me I have a phone call. I'm hoping it's this girl, Lauren Johnson, so I take it in mom and dad's bedroom for privacy. Of course, Anders follows me up there. I try closing the door, and he just starts scratching up a storm, so I open it and let him in.

I take a deep breath and pick up the receiver.

'Hello' I say, my voice jumping an octave.

'What's the matter with you?' Jeremy asks.

'Oh, it's just you. I thought it was going to be this girl named Lauren Johnson' I explain.

'Lauren Johnson. Where have I heard that name before?' Jeremy asks.

'She's Doc Johnson's granddaughter' I say.

'Yeah, that's right. Anyways, I called you because I need someone experienced with cats' Jeremy explains.

'I'm not sure I'd call me experienced in cats. I've been the caretaker of one for three months, but go ahead anyways' I say.

'I just need to know the name of that place in Dearborn where you took Anders when you found him. I found this cat who's pregnant and has been knocked around pretty badly, and my mom and I need to take her somewhere' Jeremy says.

'It's called Dr. Joe's Animal Hospital' I tell him.

'Alright. Thanks' he says, and then hangs up.

Anders is up next to me on the bed. He's looking at me in that same weird way he was that night a few months ago. I really don't know what to make of this cat.

I get off the bed and open the door to leave and go downstairs. My four legged shadow follows me.

I sit down on the couch and turn on the TV. Anders gets up into my lap and gets comfortable and is asleep in minutes. About half an hour later, he jolts his head up and starts looking around the room as if a military invasion was imminent. After concluding that everything is okay and that the living room is not under enemy control, he looks up at me. He swallows hard. Now, I won't swear to it, but it almost looks like a single tear rolls out of his right eye.

No, I really don't know what to make of this cat.

* * *

A/N: Something occurred to me while I was writing this chapter. When Randy rescued Anders, Tim drove to someplace in Dearborn to have Anders treated. In the previous chapter, I erroneously stated that Anders had been treated by Dr. Weech that night. I'd like everyone to disregard the statement from last chapter. Thanks.

Please read and review. Both are appreciated.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	8. Chapter 7: Homicidal Kitty Cat

The Watcher Chapter 7

"Homicidal Kitty Cat"

Randy's POV

'Well, the two of them seem to be getting along pretty well' I comment. Jeremy brought the cat he found, Midnight, over to meet Anders.

'So, tell me, what's it like having a pregnant cat?' I ask.

'It's better than when my mom was pregnant. At least Midnight isn't trying to vanquish invisible dust molecules. How about your cat? Is he still acting weird?' Jeremy smiles.

'Weird for him, no. Weird for a normal cat, yes. I can't move six inches without him following me. It's like he thinks he's my bodyguard or something' I say.

* * *

Anders' POV

Randy told me this morning that there was a cat he wanted me to meet. I act agreeable, just because it's Randy. Under normal circumstances, I really wouldn't give a rat's posterior.

I'm surprised when Randy's friend, Jeremy, opens the cat carrier, and out walks Barney.

'What are you doing here?' I ask.

'Remember the other day I told you I was in for a checkup because I was pregnant?' she asks.

'Yeah' I say.

'Something came up during my checkup. I have some kind of infection, what specifically, I don't know. Anyways, the man that took care of me before, the father of the boy who named me, left me on your human's friend's doorstep' Barney explains.

'That…I don't even know what to call him. I don't want to insult anything else by equating it to him. Did he hurt you?' I say.

'Not physically, no' she says.

'What about the kittens? Did Dr. Joe say if they're alright?' I ask.

'Yeah, they'll be fine. Everything should go as planned. Dr. Joe prescribed some kind of pill for the infection' Barney answers.

'I guess I can add someone else to my hit list' I mutter.

'What hit list?' she asks.

'A hit list of all the people that have harmed a cat that I personally know. J.C. is on there, and now this guy. What's his name?' I ask.

'Dan Simpson, but how will you ever find him?' she says.

'I don't know, but when I do…what to do with an ailing pregnant cat will be the least of his worries' I promise.

'Enough of this murder talk' Barney says. 'Do your humans keep any fish flakes in the house?'

* * *

Later

Randy's POV

Anders and Midnight seem to like each other a lot. We both agreed that we'd have to set up future play dates for them.

I shudder as I get the now nearly familiar sensation that someone is watching me. I turn around from the game of Solitaire that I'm playing on my computer.

Sure enough, Anders is in his usual spot, up on my bed, watching my every move.

'Are you trying to have a staring contest with the back of my head?' I ask. He blinks once, slowly, in response.

'Then what is it?' I ask him. No response. Not even a blink from his big, yellow-gold eyes.

I sigh and turn back around to my game.

'What do you think you're going to do when I start school again tomorrow? I can't let you follow me all around school. And don't think you're going to try to stow away in my backpack again' I say.

'Meow?' he says.

'Yes, I have to go to school' I tell him.

'Merow' Anders says.

'You tell that to mom then. That'd make your neutering look like a picnic' I say, imagining mom's reaction at having a cat tell her that I can't attend school anymore.

'It'll be fine Anders. Think about it; you'll have the house all to yourself for an entire day for 180 days' I say. This doesn't seem to cheer him up any.

* * *

A/N: I just added to my profile a picture of how I imagine Anders looking. It's under the original characters section of The Watcher.

Please read and review. Thanks for both.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	9. Chapter 8: Kick Ass Kitty Cat

The Watcher Chapter 8

"Kick Ass Kitty Cat"

Randy's POV

'So, Anders, how was your first day all alone?' I ask as I walk through the door. I expect him to come tackling me as soon as I walk through the door. He doesn't.

'Anders? Where are you?' I ask. No response. Hmm. He must be taking a nap someplace.

I go downstairs to put my backpack away. I don't see Anders down there either. I search through every room in the house, and don't see him anywhere.

Just when I'm starting to panic, mom walks through the door.

'Mom, did you let Anders outside before you left today?' I ask.

'And hello to you too' she says.

'Mom, this is serious. I can't find Anders anywhere' I say, frustrated with her lack of concern.

'Okay, calm down. He has to be here somewhere. Cats just can't disappear into thin air. Did you check under all the beds?' mom asks.

'Yes. I've checked everywhere in the house' I insist.

'He has to be somewhere' mom says again. The only problem with that theory is that he isn't. At least, he isn't somewhere here.

'You'd be surprised the places cats will find to hide. Sometimes, they'll go places that you wouldn't even think they could fit in and then just turn up a few hours or days later' she says.

'How would you know? Grandpa never allowed any animals into the house' I point out.

'A friend of mine had a cat once. I remember, one time, it found a loose heating vent, and crawled into it. My friend thought she had gotten out until one night she heard meowing coming from the ceiling' mom tells me.

'Mom, this isn't some alley cat we're talking about here, this is Anders. He's too smart to do anything like that' I say.

'Honey, I'm sure he'll turn up somewhere' she assures me. I try to believe her.

* * *

Ander's POV

I guess it's time to go back to having incredibly boring days now that Randy's back in school all day.

At least I'll have plenty of time to think about what I'm going to do to J.C. and how I'm going to do it.

Is it sick to say that I fantasize about clawing his eyes out and watching him writhing in extreme pain and agony? Okay, I guess I kind of answered my own question there, but sick or not, I still fantasize about it. And besides, it's not like it's unjustified. I mean, after what he did to Mom and what he tried to do to me, he deserves it.

Okay, let's see. First of all, I need to figure out a way to get outside. Randy doesn't like to let me out very often, so if I were lucky enough to be let out, I'd have to run like my life depended on it. In this case, someone's life just might depend on it if J.C. has gotten more animals.

I walk to the dining room and sit down in front of the French doors. If only I were just a little bigger, then I could stand up on my hind legs and reach the handle.

Maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself here. I don't even know how I'll find J.C. once I get out.

I lay down and start washing a forepaw while I contemplate what to do. Sure there're gangs of alley cats that I could ask for help, but who's to say they'll know where J.C. is.

I close my eyes and try to remember what J.C.'s house looked like and where it was. After a couple minutes of thinking, I give up and open my eyes. Only, when I open my eyes, I'm not home anymore. I look at my surroundings and gulp when I realize where I am.

'I told you never to claw me, you dumb little bitch!' I hear an all too familiar voice yell, just before I see a cat get thrown, yes thrown, out the front door of the house that I'm facing.

I go running over to the cat that just got tossed. A small spot of blood is tainting her somewhat grungy (not that that's her fault), but otherwise solid white coat.

I stay there for a few moments, but she doesn't start breathing again. I start to shed tears, but manage to stay strong. I wash the spot of blood off her coat. As I do so, I can't help but wish there was some way I could do for her what Randy did for me the night we first met.

As if a miracle from God, which this very well could be, she resumes breathing.

'Are you alright?' I ask. Stupid question, I know, but it doesn't literally mean "are you alright". In this case, it's more of an "I'm here to help you", though not as forward.

'I…I don't know' she says between labored breaths.

'Do you think you'll be alright if I leave you here for a few minutes to get help?' I ask her. She nods her head once.

I look around, trying to decide to get for help. I wish I knew where Randy's school was. He'd know what to do.

I run across the street, barely avoiding getting hit by a driver who's most likely busy changing the radio station while trying to not drop his/her latte.

I go to the front door and start scratching and meowing.

'Go away! I'm not going to feed every cat in this neighborhood' a man's voice from inside yells. Damn. I try the house a couple houses down to my right. I keep the same MO. A large man opens the door and looks down at me.

'What's the matter?' he asks.

'Help' I respond, although to the man's ears, it's nothing more than "merrowww!"

'Do you belong to that J.C. kid across the street?' the man asks. I nod my head even though I wouldn't normally admit to belonging to J.C.

Luckily, J.C. starts yelling at another cat just then.

'I told that SOB that I'd call the cops the next time he abuses those animals' the man says. He storms off and comes back with a cordless telephone held up to his ear.

'Yes operator, I'd like to report some animal abuse' he says. I block out the rest of what he says as he follows me across the street.

I lead him right up to the injured cat, who is having a harder time breathing with every breath. I don't stop to watch the man tend to her though. I run around to the backyard and undo the low latch of the fence that only opens from the outside.

I clear out the rest of the animals who are on the patio and tell them to go to the front yard and wait for the police. I want all innocents out of the way for the imminent duel with the guy I like to call Satan. (Amongst other names that I would never dream of using in front of Randy).

I walk through the door that leads from the patio to the rest of the house. J.C. doesn't notice me since he's busy with the commotion going on out front.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Then I let out the most blood curdling, bone chilling, murderous, evil meow I can come up with. He turns around and looks at me.

'What the fuck are you doing here?' he demands.

"Kicking your ass" I reply mentally as I lick my chops in anticipation of this fight.

* * *

A/N: This is a little farfetched, I'll give you that, but Anders is a very special cat with very special powers. That's how he manages to do all that he does. Well, that and a little help from me.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Please review if you did.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	10. Chapter 9: Tuna

The Watcher Chapter 9

"Tuna"

Ander's POV

'The cops are almost here' I hear a cat say from the back door. That's the next thing I'm aware of.

I look down. I'm on top of J.C.'s chest, and am shaking like a leaf in a tornado. Shaking with pure, unrefined rage. Shaking with rage I didn't think anyone, let alone little old me, was capable of.

'Did you hear me?' asks the cat, who has now, completely disregarding my instructions, come inside.

'Yes' I answer.

Then it finally sinks in. The cops are here. I have to get the hell out of here. I look down at J.C.'s body. His chest is covered in blood. His face is torn to shreds. His eyes are…never mind where his eyes are. I think I see the cause of death: A large slash near his carotid artery.

I did all of this. I killed someone. The thing is, I don't feel bad. I don't feel bad, or guilty, or even shocked. I feel…proud, like this is what Mom meant when she said I was the only one that could stop J.C. from abusing and/or killing more cats.

I look down at my paws before I exit the house. They're covered with blood, as well as my claws. I stop and lick the blood off. Contrary to the saying, revenge is a dish best served warm and sticky. I make a mental note to rinse my mouth out before I go home to Randy, but savor the taste while it's still there.

After my I get all the blood off my paws, I go out to the yard and round up all the animals. He had twelve kittens, four full grown cats, four rabbits, at least forty total rats and mice, two iguanas, and some kind of lizard or gecko.

'What do we do now?' one cat, a tortoiseshell, demands. That's a good question. If we all stay here, we'll be put in an animal shelter where we'll probably get killed. Randy, I'm sorry to do this, but…

'Follow me. I'll take us all home to my human. He'll know what to do' I answer. Since the police aren't here quite yet, I go back inside one more time. I have some personal business I need to take care of with J.C. I'll just say that when we depart, a couple of internal organs are lighter than they were.

I can tell as soon as we set out that this is going to be a long, troublesome journey. For starters, I have no clue how I'm going to get back home.

'Okay, does anybody here know where Glenview Road is?' I ask. Hey, it's worth a shot.

'No, but you should ask Tuna. I'm sure he knows' the tortoiseshell from before says.

'And where can I find Tuna?' I ask, mentally adding "besides in a can in the supermarket".

'Go left from where you're standing right now, and he'll be down by the stream' she says.

'Alright, listen up everybody! I'm going to go talk with Tuna. (Then after that, maybe I'll talk to Salmon, or Tilapia, or possibly Herring. Who knows?) If the police come before I get back, everyone run to the stream. That's where I'll be. If for some reason, I'm not there, wait for me' I instruct. I can't help but wonder if this is what that guy from the Bible, Moses, had to go through. Surely he didn't have to talk to Tuna.

After leaving the tortoiseshell, whose name is Spice, in charge, I set out to find the stream, and hopefully Tuna.

It takes me the better part of half an hour to get to the stream. When I do, I find a large (and I do mean large) tabby sitting with its paw in the stream. It pulls a fish up out of the stream and has the fish in its mouth before I can realize what happened.

'Are you Tuna?' I ask after it stops chewing.

'Nope. I'm a cat' it replies.

'Surely you know Tuna then, I mean, how many cats live down here?' I say.

'Don't call me Shirley, my name's Tuna' it says.

'But I just asked if you were Tuna and you said you weren't' I tell it.

'And I'm not' it says. I let out an exasperated sigh.

'Then where is Tuna?' I ask.

'I don't know. Rivers, cans, supermarkets, fish markets' it says.

'I want the cat named Tuna!' I shout.

'Then you've come to the right place' it says.

'Alright, if I'm at the right place, then tell me, where is Tuna?' I ask, trying not to let the frustration show in my voice.

'I just told you, rivers, supermarkets, fish markets. Oh! I forgot to say restaurants. I'm sure there's plenty of tuna in restaurants' it says.

'You! What is your name?' I demand.

'Tuna' it responds.

'Okay. You are the cat I am looking for' I say. I take a deep breath.

'But I thought you were looking for Tuna' Tuna says.

'Let's not go there again' I say, putting a paw up in a gesture similar to that that humans make when they tell someone to stop.

'I need some help, and a friend of mine, Spice, seems to think you can help me' I explain.

'Well, I reckon I can try. What do you need help with?' he asks.

'I'm trying to find my human's house. It's on Glenview Road' I say.

'Whoa! Slow down a minute. If that is your human's house, why do you need me to help you find it?' Tuna asks. I proceed to explain everything that's happened, starting with J.C. killing Mother.

'That is quite a brine soaked cucumber you got yourself into there, little fella' Tuna says after listening to my story.

'A…brine soaked cucumber? What's a brine soaked cucumber?' I ask, puzzled.

'A pickle' he says.

'So, can you give me directions or not?' I ask.

'No. I think it'd be easier if I came with you all. It's over eight miles to get to where you're going. You all probably won't get there until tomorrow afternoon, anyhow, and you'll need someone who has experience with the outdoors to help keep everyone alive' he answers.

As Tuna and I set out to go back to J.C.'s house, a large pack of animals appear on the horizon.

'Your subjects' I tell Tuna.

'No no, Anders, those are _your _subjects. You're the one that will lead them to…say, where are you leading them to? What will you do once you get them home to your human?' Tuna asks. To be honest, I hadn't gotten that far with my plan yet.

'I'll cross that bridge when we come to it' I tell him.

As soon as everyone has caught their breath, we set out, with me and Tuna in the lead of the pack.

I realize something as we're walking along. This will be the first night I haven't had a warm bed to sleep in since the night I met Randy. God, I miss Him so much. I hope He isn't too upset tonight when I'm not there to watch over him, and go to bed with him. Even though I'm not the religious type (I've always found the idea of Bast, the Egyptian cat goddess, being the creator of life to be insulting, and I'm not so sure about some of the other religions), I say a silent, nondenominational prayer for Him and His family, ending it with "I'll be home soon, Randy".

* * *

A/N: Okay, this story is finally back after three and a half months. Sorry it took so long.

Please R&R if you liked this chapter. It's much appreciated.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	11. Chapter 10: Randy's Ark

The Watcher Chapter 10

"Randy's Ark"

'Are you still tired?' Spice asks when she sees my yawn just before we start out on our second day of our journey home.

'Yes. I forgot how much I hate being outside at night, especially when it's cold' I say. It's a lie. I didn't get much sleep last night because I couldn't fall asleep without Randy being next to me. Instead of Him and His scent, I had Tuna (everyone slept next to each other for both safety and warmth) and the scent of scary smelling animals.

After a few hours of walking, and about an hour and half of whining from some of the younger animals, Tuna stops for a break. The problem is, he did just that. He didn't make any kind of announcement; he just stopped and flopped down on his side and started washing a paw, thus causing a major pile up of animals, and much grousing.

'So tell me Tuna, how is it that you know Spice?' I ask while we're stopped.

'How is that any of us know any of us?' he answers stoically.

'Good point' I say, although it isn't. I decide I'll talk to Spice about it later.

I do just that once we set out after the rest stop. I come up with an excuse to go to the back of the pack and slip in between Spice and Greenie, one of the iguanas.

'Just out of curiosity, how do you know Tuna?' I ask Spice after a couple minutes of silence.

'He used to be one of us. One of…that man's animals. He got out last November, after he got some cat pregnant. He promised to come back for her and her litter, or so I'm told. I didn't get there until May. But anyways, by the time he got back, right around the time I got there, the cat and her litter had all been…disposed of' Spice explains.

'Did anyone ever mention who the cat was that Tuna impregnated?' I ask, even more curious now.

'They didn't mention a name, they just said she was a real slut' she answers.

'Who told you this?' I ask.

'Chewy, one of the rats, said his mom said that.' Spice says. Or something like that.

'Where's Chewy's mom at?' I shout in order to be heard.

'Over here' a squeaky voice replies.

I follow the voice and fall into step next to the rat.

'What's your name?' I ask the rat.

'Mousy. Don't ask' she says when I give her a questioning look.

'I hear from a good source that your son said that you said that the cat who Tuna got pregnant before he left last November was a real slut' I begin.

'Yes' Mousy says.

'What was the cat's name?' I ask.

'Cherry' she answers. I leave without saying anything else, and go back up front next to Tuna.

'What's masticating you?' Tuna asks after I've fumed for an hour.

'What the hell does masticating mean?' I snap.

'Eating. What's eating you?' he asks.

'The fact that no one would want me to be doing what I'm doing if anyone knew who I was' I explain.

'Why not? J.C. was a jerk to every one of them. Why would they not want you to liberate them of that?' Tuna asks.

'Like I said, because of who I am' I remind him.

'Who are you?' he asks.

'Apparently I'm the son of the resident slut' I snap, not wanting to think of Mother as something like a slut.

'I lived in that hellhole for eight years. I wish I would've gotten out sooner, son of a slut liberator or no. Oh, and by the way, who was your mother? I might've known her. If I did, I can tell you whether or not she was the slut everyone says she is or not' he says.

'Cherry' I answer. Tuna is silent for several moments.

'No. No, your mother was definitely not a slut' he says when he finally does speak.

After that, we walk for the next few hours without saying anything to each other. I think both of us are thinking the same thing, but neither one of us has the guts to say it.

* * *

That Afternoon

Ander's POV

The rest of the day is uneventful until mid-afternoon.

Then Tuna turns to me and says 'Your street is the next one on the right. I'll let you lead us from there.'

Sure enough, he falls back into the pack as soon as the street sign that says "Glenview Rd." comes into view.

I try to ignore the painful memories as I lead the way. It takes every ounce of mental strength and focus I have to do so.

After a few more minutes of walking, I see our destination. Forgetting about everyone else, I go running to the front door and start meowing and scratching.

* * *

Randy's POV

I'm sitting on the couch, doing homework, when I hear scratching and meowing at the door. Mom gets up from the table to answer the door, but doesn't make it there before I do.

I yank the door open and sure enough, there's Anders. He immediately comes in and starts rubbing up against my legs.

When I start to shut the door, Anders jumps back outside and looks up at me.

'You want me to follow you outside?' I ask.

'Meow' he answers.

Mom and I both follow him, and are both shocked with what we see. Waiting in our driveway is a large mass of animals.

'Now all we're missing is a flood' I joke. Before I can get the last word out of my mouth, rain starts pouring from the overcast skies. I gulp.

Later That Night

Randy's POV

'Come on dad, the story will be on after this commercial break' I yell to dad, who's in the bathroom.

'And finally tonight, we have the story that some have dubbed the story of "Randy's Ark"'.

'A Detroit teenager's cat has made the news tonight for leading a pack of animals to his home. While we can't be positive yet, it is believed that these animals once belonged to J.C. Smith, whose death is currently under investigation.'

The newscast ends with a picture of me holding Anders, and a picture of the pack of animals, who have all been taken someplace (a safe place, not somewhere where they'll be killed; I made sure of this).

I start to ask Anders what he thinks of all this, but stop when I see that he's sound asleep. I start to move him so I can get up and get ready for bed, and he sinks a claw into my shirt so I can't.

'Yeah, I missed you too' I whisper. Anders opens his eyes and looks at me. Then he closes them again, and sighs contentedly. I pet his head and scratch behind his ear. For once, he doesn't object.

* * *

A/N: Yuck. I'll just say up front, I don't like this chapter. I don't like it at all, except for about the last seven sentences.

So why did I post this then? Because I think this is the best it's going to get for this chapter. Hopefully the next one will be much better.

Even though it isn't so good, I hope you read and review.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	12. Chapter 11: Problems

The Watcher Chapter 11

"Problems"

Randy's POV

I wake up when I hear my alarm going off. God, it doesn't seem like it could possibly be 6:30 already.

On my way to the shower, I go through today's schedule in my mind. First period, I have a test in geometry, second period is silent reading, third period, God only knows what we'll be doing. Crap! I forgot I have to have mom sign my test for third period. It isn't that I did poorly on the test, my world cultures teacher believes in parents signing all tests, whether you get an A (like me) or an F.

After I shower, I run downstairs and get the test out of my backpack, and have mom sign it after breakfast.

I put the test in my binder, and then put the binder in one of the many pockets on my backpack. I grab the backpack and head out the door.

Unfortunately, the first three periods pass pretty uneventfully. Normally, I would love a day like this, because I'd be able to sit and read, but I've been really tired lately. I tell all of this to Jeremy at lunch.

'Are you sleeping all the way through the night?' he asks.

'Yeah. That's the thing. I've been trying to sleep extra even. I'll sleep my way through most of the afternoon, come home and take a nap, and go to bed an hour or two earlier than normal, but it seems like the more I sleep, the more tired I am' I tell him.

'Have you told your parents?' Jeremy asks.

'No. Why should I? It's not like there's anything that can really be done' I say, even though I'm wondering the same thing.

'Sure there is. There are doctors that do sleep studies' he says.

'Sleep studies? Sounds like a real snooze-fest' I smile.

'No, really, there are. They can test for things like sleep apnea and insomnia. My aunt had one done, and it turns out she had sleep apnea' he says.

'And what exactly is sleep apnea?' I ask skeptically.

'Basically it's when you stop breathing in your sleep, which causes you to wake up so you can start breathing again. And before you say anything, you most likely wouldn't even realize that you'd stopped breathing, or even had your sleep disturbed' he explains.

'Okay, so say I go in to have one of these tests, these "sleep studies" done, and I do have something like sleep apnea. Then what?' I ask.

'Well, with my aunt, they did some kind of surgery that corrected her airway. Ever since, she's been sleeping all the way through the night, and feeling refreshed in the morning' Jeremy says.

'Forget college, you should just start doing public service announcements' I tell him.

'How do I even know I have sleep apnea?' I ask after a few moments of silence. (Well, silence in our conversation. There is no such thing as silence in our school's cafeteria).

'How do you know you don't?' he asks. I ignore this remark.

The next two periods are about as eventful as my morning was. Then, in seventh period, physical science, I start feeling really tired. That's not to say I wasn't tired before, but I really am now. I try to fight the urge to go to sleep, but am unsuccessful.

The next thing I know, the science teacher, Mr. Grigsby is saying my name. I jerk my head up, nearly giving myself whiplash in the process.

The sight I see isn't good. Mr. Grigsby doesn't look happy, and the principal, Mr. Franks, looks even less happy.

'Mr. Taylor, can I speak with you in the hallway for a moment?' Mr. Franks asks. The rest of the class "oooohs" in unison.

'Oh grow up!' I snap.

In the hall, Mr. Franks reaches down to pick something up.

'Does this belong to you?' he asks. It's my backpack! What's it doing out of my locker?

'Yes' I gulp.

'Can you explain to me what exactly you brought to school with you today?' he asks.

'Just the normal things' I say.

'Then can you explain to me why we got a call from someone saying that there was some kind of animal inside your locker?' he asks. Damn it Anders! He must have snuck into one of the compartments this morning.

'That…that would probably be because my cat snuck into my backpack this morning, unbeknownst to me' I explain.

'You are aware we don't allow animals in the building, right Mr. Taylor?' Mr. Franks asks.

'Yes, I am aware of the policy on animals. As I said before, he did this without my knowing it' I say.

Just then, someone comes running up to us, and says they need to talk to Mr. Franks. I don't hear any of the conversation, except for the other person saying that animal control is on their way.

'You can't call animal control on Anders!' I shout.

'Young man, he's already scratched and/or clawed four people who have tried to catch him' the other person says.

'You haven't tried letting me catch him yet. He'll come to me, I know he will' I say.

'I really think it would be best to let the professionals handle this' Mr. Franks says.

'Well I don't. He's my cat' I say.

'How do we know he doesn't have rabies?' the woman asks.

'Because he's been vaccinated for them' I snap.

'Linda, I think you've done enough here. Randy, I'll give you one chance to catch your cat. If he doesn't come to you, then I'm letting animal control take over' Mr. Franks says, diffusing the imminent fight between me and the woman.

'Where is he?' I ask. Mr. Franks leads me to an office room, where Anders is perched high up on a book case, looking like a hostage.

I get up on a chair that is right by the bookcase. I reach up to the top, but Anders moves back to where he's just out of reach.

'Come on Anders, you've got to come down from there' I say.

'Mrrow' he responds.

'I'm not mad' I tell him.

'Meeowww' he says.

'Okay, so I guess I am a little mad. I've only told you 38,456,985,435 times that you're not supposed to climb in my backpack' I admit.

'Merow' Anders says.

'Anders, you've got to trust me' I say. He blinks twice.

'Look, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one in trouble over this. I am too. I'll probably have Saturday detention for three months' I say. This apparently has no effect on Anders.

'Alright, I didn't want it to come to this, but if you won't let me get you down, then I'll have to let animal control have their way with you' I tell him. Again, this has no effect on him.

'If they do, they'll want to give you shots and take blood. You might also wind up staying in the pound for a week or more' I say. He starts to come toward me, but hesitates when he sees Mr. Franks and some other people behind me.

'Don't worry about them. Nobody will hurt you. Nobody is going to take you away from me' I reassure him under my breath.

He finally comes close enough for me to grab him. I do so, and get down off the chair.

'What do we do now?' I ask Mr. Franks.

'You can hand him over to me, and I'll give him to animal control. They're waiting right outside' he says. Anders starts kicking and howling and fighting me to be let down when he hears this.

'No! I already told you, he doesn't have rabies or anything like that' I shout.

'Now look, yelling will get you nowhere. Now give me that cat. He's caused enough problems for us' Mr. Franks demands.

When I refuse again, Mr. Franks tries to grab a hold of Anders and take him out of my hands. I do the first thing that comes to mind to protect Anders. I bite Mr. Franks' hand and bolt out the door, and keep running until I'm out of the school. I keep running and keep running, not even knowing where I'm going. I run until I can't run any more, then I start walking.

While I'm walking, I think. I think about what I've done. When I start thinking about what I've done, I start thinking about what the consequences will be, not that I really care. Granted, I shouldn't go around biting school principals, but he _was_ trying to bully Anders, and if there's one lesson I've learned from mom, it's to not tolerate bullying. I guess maybe if I wasn't so tired, I would've found a more rational approach. Hell, I might have even let Mr. Franks have Anders checked out by animal control. Okay, so maybe that last part isn't true. Tired or not, I'm not going to start lying to Anders.

I look up and see that my legs have taken me home. Once inside, I make a phone call, after locking Anders in my room.

'Hey dad, it's Randy. I have a major problem' I start.

* * *

A/N: So this isn't exactly how I planned to have this chapter end, but I think I like this ending much better than the original.

Please R&R.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	13. Chapter 12: Chin Licks and Apologies

The Watcher Chapter 12

"Chin Licks and Apologies"

A/N: There is one line here where Jill may be slightly OOC. Just thought I'd warn everyone.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

Randy's POV

'You bit him? _You _bit your principal, not the cat? I…I don't even know where to begin. Where are you right now?' dad asks.

'I'm at home' I tell him.

'And how did you get home?' dad asks.

'I ran' I respond.

'Alright. Stay inside, and keep Anders inside too. Don't answer the phone or let anybody in until I get there. It should only take me about fifteen minutes' he says.

Ten minutes pass uneventfully, then I hear a knock at the front door. I look around for a hiding place, and settle on lying down behind one of the islands. The knocker continues knocking intermittently until dad gets home. He comes in through the garage and motions for me to stand up and follow him to the door.

Surprise surprise, the knocker is Mr. Franks.

'Yes, what can we do for you?' dad asks politely.

'Mr. Taylor, do you have any idea what your son has been up to today?' Mr. Franks asks.

'Yes, Randy has explained to me what happened at school. I am terribly sorry about all of this, and will discuss his punishment further when my wife gets home' dad says, smartly trying to douse the fuse of Mr. Frank's temper.

'I will leave Randy's home punishment to you and your wife, however, I feel that I would be sending the wrong message to the student body if I didn't suspend Randy from school' Mr. Franks says.

'How long will he be suspended for?' dad asks.

'I think one week of out of school suspension is fair' says Mr. Franks. I start to protest, considering what he wanted to do to Anders. Dad gives me a look before I can even finish saying the first word.

'I agree. Now, if you'll excuse us, I need to get back to work' dad says, showing Mr. Franks to the door.

* * *

Later That Night

Randy's POV

I am _so_ not looking forward to the next half hour or so. Mom just pulled in the driveway, and when she hears what happened at school, she will be…I don't even know what she'll be. Irate? Livid? Furious? Enraged? Just plain pissed off? Maybe I should consult the thesaurus for a few more adjectives…

I don't even wait to be summoned. I go inside, and sit down on the couch, all the while, feeling like a prisoner on death row being marched to Old Sparky. (I guess the more modern phrase would substitute Old Sparky with something about lethal injections).

Mom comes in and I can tell from the not-so-subtle sigh of relief that she's had a bad day. This is good news because now I won't be ruining a good day for her, and bad news because she'll be harsher and less rational when she doles out my punishment.

Dad asks mom how her day was. I've seen this before; it's a stalling tactic while he tries to figure out how to broach the subject that he doesn't want to, but inevitably will talk about. Apparently mom remembers it from the previous times as well, because she asks dad what happened.

'Well honey, you see, it's…Actually, I think maybe it would be better if Randy told you what happened' dad says. Thanks dad!

'Anders somehow, someway stowed away in my backpack this morning before I went to school. I didn't notice this, and went about my day normally, until the principal called me out of class to inform me that there had been loud noises coming from my locker. Naturally, he opened my locker, and freed Anders, who then promptly took off' I explain. Mom reacts in a way completely contrary to what I expected. She starts laughing.

'That's what was so terrible? So he accidentally went to school and you had to chase him down, what's the big deal?' she asks, still laughing.

'The big deal comes next' dad says. Thanks again dad!

'The principal wanted me to let him have Anders so he could give Anders to animal control to be locked up. When I refused, he tried to take Anders from me by force. The principal wouldn't take no for an answer, so I…so I bit him' I recount. Mom's smile pulls a Houdini.

'Randy,' she begins quietly 'please tell me that I heard you wrong. Please tell me I heard you say Anders bit your principal, or even that you bit Anders, or that the principal bit one of you. Please don't tell me that _you _bit your principal.' By the time she finishes, her voice has crescendoed to a strong shout.

While I try to think of a reply to all of these "please tell mes", she turns and faces dad who is…trying to pick a piece of food out of his teeth?

'I assume you've spoken with the principal' mom says after giving dad one of her patented looks.

'Uh yes, yes. He said that Randy will have one week of out of school suspension' dad states.

'Randy, you are a freshman at this high school. You still have three more years to go there, not to mention the next seven months of this school year. I didn't think I needed to remind you, **you **of all people in this family, to not antagonize the school administrators. This is the man who has the power to fail you, to kick you out of the high school, on the spot. He holds the power to ruin the rest of your life.' She pauses to debate what she wants to say next. 'I think you should go to your room while your dad and I discuss your home punishment.'

I get up and leave.

Thinking back to what I was thinking about earlier, I decide that mom wasn't livid, irate, furious, pissed off, et cetera. If anything, she seemed concerned. I mean, not just the typical concern that comes with being a mom, but honest to God, one person to another, all relation and gender differences set aside concerned. Then again, I guess she has occasion to be concerned, considering her middle son is going around acting like Bram Stoker's Dracula.

As I get down to my room, I remember the solitaire game I left running earlier. I decide I'll go back to it while I await the judges' ruling. But it isn't my solitaire game I see on the computer screen when I get downstairs. Instead, it's a word processing program. I see Anders at the keyboard. I think that there's no possible way the two things could be connected, until I read what has been typed on the screen: "IM SOR"

I lay down on my bed to digest this all. Anders comes and joins me, after hitting one more key. The screen now reads "IM SORY". I shake my head in disbelief and laugh. Anders looks at me questioningly.

'Apology accepted, even though it isn't your fault.' He doesn't look so sure. 'Hey, think of it like this. We can have a whole week's worth of time to spend together.' His face brightens at this, and he starts licking my chin, one of his favorite pastimes.

* * *

A/N: Yay, I'm finally back!

If anyone is still reading this, please review!

Thanks for both reading and reviewing.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	14. Chapter 13: Murder

The Watcher Chapter 13

"Murder"

A/N: Okay, couple things here:

1. You may not want to read this if you're either about to eat, or have recently eaten.

2. It might seem like Anders is OOC. Whether or not he is, I'll leave up to you readers, but I do ask that you read both this and the next chapter before making the call.

As always, enjoy.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

Anders' POV

It swoops past me, narrowly avoiding taking my right ear with it. It glides over to the picnic table and sits down on top of it and starts preening itself under one wing. I bound up after it, sending it flying, this time to the roof. Crap! How do I get to the stupid pigeon now?

Then I get an idea. I leap down off the table, and run over to a tree conveniently located right next to the house. I climb up the tree, and ultimately on top of the house.

Once there, I stalk toward the bird in a stance not unlike that of one of my larger, jungle dwelling relatives. It appears to not even notice me. Its lack of attention will be its downfall. Finally, I get close enough to pounce, and do so. I'm shocked when I look down to find only shingles and thin air under my body, and look up in time enough to see the pigeon land back on the picnic table.

It starts taunting me again; calling me names that I wouldn't want Randy to even know exist. I don't even consider using the tree again. Instead, I back up, and literally take a flying leap onto the picnic table. The thing is so shocked it doesn't have time to beg for forgiveness, let alone even _think _of escape.

'Die bird, die!' I rage as I rip through its neck and major arteries. I shout more obscenities at it as my once finely groomed fur becomes covered in the damn thing's blood.

After I'm sure it's dead, I look down to guesstimate how many hours of bathing lie ahead of me. My guess is: several. I have blood clear down to the white spot just above my…things. For getting me all dirty, I mutilate/humiliate (can something that's dead even be humiliated? Perhaps disgrace would be a better choice of words?) the pigeon even further.

I dismember it a little further, and then stop to look around. I'm covered in blood. My stomach is bloody, my paws are bloody, and I'm sure my mouth and other parts of me I can't see are fairly blood coated. I look down at the once clean table, and see that it is now home to a Red Sea of its own. Damn bird, it had to go and bleed all over the place.

About forty five minutes later, the blood is…"taken care of", and, while the table is not _completely _clean (it remains a little sticky), it is better. I move the bird off and arrange it as if it were looking at the latest issue of _Playbird_.

I then begin work on my coat, which is a rather daunting task after the table. Even an hour later I'm not done; my fur is still matted and sticky and sweet smelling, but it will have to do for now. I should be able to wash better after I can rinse my mouth out. Even though I've done similar things before (vis-à-vis JC), the smell and taste of blood is still sickening, especially after it's sat for two hours.

* * *

A/N: This is part one. Part two will be up Friday.

Please R&R.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	15. Chapter 14: Repentance

The Watcher Chapter 14

"Repentance"

A/N:

Can't believe I forgot to post this Friday. Sorry 'bout that.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

As I'm giving my coat a few finishing licks, a squirrel comes up to me and starts chattering away. I contemplate just giving him the paw and going in, but it sounds important. (Whatever it is; I don't speak squirrel). I tell him about our language barrier (hoping he understands me), and he runs off a couple feet, then turns and looks back at me. Against my better judgment, I follow him. He leads me around to the other side of the house, where, I'll admit, I rarely ever go. I don't know why, I just don't.

I cease my contemplations when I see my guide jump onto the tree and start scurrying up branches and limbs.

'Slow down!' I shout after him, hoping it will do some good. Whether it was my shouting or pure instinct, he stops and looks down at me. Awkwardly, I mount the tree as if I were going to climb a wall with suction cups attached to my feet. This does me no good whatsoever.

One might think, seeing as how I'm a cat, I would have a God given ability climb. One might also think that Elvis owns a doughnut shop co-managed by John Lennon and Kurt Cobain. In both scenarios, "one" would be wrong. (Sorry conspiracy theorists!)

Next I try backing up and jumping at/on the oak. The first time, I get a face full of bark, which, surprisingly enough, has quite a bit of bite. I want to quit right then and there and just go running back inside and never leave the house again. But what's that old saying, if you fall off a horse, get back on the bike while the iron's hot? It's something to that effect.

So I try, try again, this time with my eyes closed and my head facing back away from the biting bark. I start to slide down as I did before, but manage to unsheathe my claws and sink them into the bark, thus preventing gravity's progress.

As if helping me any, the squirrel starts chattering away at me.

'I'll figure it out myself, damn it!' I yell at him. I'm not always an angry cat, honestly!

I let go of the bark with my left forepaw and move it further up the tree. I then do the same with my left forepaw, and both hind paws. Two inches down, only another twenty thousand more to go.

I continue to repeat this process, all the while repeating the same mantra: "Don't look down."

After an interminable amount of time, I catch up with my furry guide, who then slows his pace for me. After another chunk of never ending time, we reach a limb large enough that even an overweight human could safely sit on. I'm shocked when the squirrel runs off down the tree, leaving me stranded.

Just when I'm contemplating jumping, (going down sounds even worse than going up was) a chipmunk emerges from a large hole in the tree.

'I don't suppose you understand me, do you?' I ask skeptically.

'Yes, I do' it chirps. (If you've never listened to a chipmunk, and I mean a real one, not one of Alvin's gang, do so and tell me how else you would describe a chipmunk's language).

'Why am I here? Where am I going? What are you all trying to do to me?' I demand.

'Ah, the great questions of life…' it smiles and looks off at the blue May sky.

'Who are you even?' I ask.

'Yet another one. I'm Torii' he introduces himself.

'I'm guessing you all know who I am' I say.

'Oh yes! I nearly forgot about the mission at hand! Come, follow me!' Torii chirps merrily.

He jumps inside the hole he just exited, and starts bounding up the inside of the tree trunk, how, only God knows.

'Come on!' he cheerfully beckons when he notices my hesitation.

'I…I'm not sure I can' I stutter.

'I saw what you did to RJ out there.' Torii says, his voice filled for the first time yet with glumness. 'If you can do that kind of thing, you can climb a silly old tree.'

I position myself and take a flying leap onto the inside bark (which has less bite, by the way), and by the grace of God don't go sliding down to only He knows where.

Using much the same approach I did outside, I start climbing up after Torii. After another long (to me) period of climbing, we reach a landing similar to the one we departed from. Just like the last one, this one also has a hole.

On the branch outside the landing sits a large Blue Jay.

'Here's the…cat' Torii says. He seemed to struggle to find the right word for me.

'Thank you. You may leave now' the Blue Jay, a female, says to Torii.

'Come on out on the limb, Anders. I need to speak with you about something that happened today' she says. Then it dawns on me. This is about that…thing that attacked Randy the other day. That thing must be the RJ that Torii was talking about. I do as she says, and walk out onto the limb.

'Anders, are you aware that this tree is alive? Not just in the normal sense, mind you. This old oak is alive with all kinds of life. Chipmunks, squirrels, birds of many species, snakes, mice, and is even directly connected to some rabbit burrows. And that doesn't even touch on the number of insects who call this tree home.' I start to answer, but get no chance. 'To keep all of these life forms content requires that everyone involved have a niche, a purpose, a goal to fulfill. Everyone helps everybody else out, knowing that they'll get the same treatment in return.' Again I start to say something, but again get no chance. 'I understand that, to you, killing one bird is unimportant. After all, there are plenty of other birds out there, right?' I nod my head. 'Wrong. Every bird you kill, every mosquito some human angrily smacks at, male or female, is some other mosquito or bird's son or daughter, brother or sister. Just as importantly, they all fill a vital role in a community. All of this applies to RJ.' She starts to sound upset.

'RJ being the bird I killed for attacking my human?' I inquire.

'Yes. RJ being the bird you killed. RJ being a member of our crack security force. RJ being the father of five chicks. RJ being my youngest son' she says, her words dripping with venom.

'I'm sorry for you having to lose a son, but as I said before, I did what I did to protect my human. Your RJ came out of nowhere and started attacking him like a scene out of Hitchcock's _The Birds_.' I explain.

'I never was a Hitchcock fan. And anyways, your "human" was near a rabbit burrow, and could have potentially caused harm to them. It's situations like that that our security team is trained to handle' she says.

Oh my God. I killed him when he was only trying to protect some innocent animals. I've killed an innocent being. It was one thing with JC; that bastard deserves to burn in hell.

'You don't know Randy. If He had only known that they were there, not only would he have left them alone, he probably would have warned his brothers and parents to do the same thing' I state.

'The elders and I have discussed your punishment for this terrible deed you have committed. They all believe in a Hammurabi form of punishment' she says, apparently thinking I know what Hammurabi is.

'And that is…?' I ask.

'It's from the ancient Code of Hammurabi. To sum it up in one sentence, it means an eye for an eye' she responds.

'So you brought me up here to kill me?' I say.

'No. I think we have use for you. The large male in your house, the one with that Simian grunt, intends to have this tree cut down a week from tomorrow. I believe that if you're up in it, this will not happen, thus saving this great, centuries old community' she explains.

'And what would you have done if I hadn't…you know?' I ask.

'I don't know' admits the Blue Jay.

'And if I don't accept this offer…?'

'I must let the other elders have their way with you' she says.

'You have yourself a deal' I say.

'Good. I shall let the others know, if you'll be so kind as to wait for me' she says.

While she's gone, I sit and soak up the beautiful view from up here. It's late afternoon now, and the sky is a mixture of blue sky, white swirls of clouds, and the yellowish-reddish-orange of imminent sunset.

I won't even go into how I got out of the tree. All I'll say is: I spent the rest of the night in Randy's lap, coming up with a plan of my own to save the giant oak and its community, sans climbing.

* * *

A/N: Hope everyone enjoyed. If you did, please R&R.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	16. Chapter 15: Sunday

The Watcher Chapter 15

"Sunday"

A/N: Randy and Anders will be **majorly** out of character in this chapter. There is a reason for Randy's odd behavior, however. (It's explained later in the chapter).

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

Randy's POV

I feel someone shaking my shoulder.

'Randy, there's a phone call for you' mom says. I sit up in bed. Who would be calling _me _at the early hour of…11:30? I'm shocked when I look at my clock/radio and see the time. There must be something wrong with it because there's no way I could have slept for 13 hours. Not if I still feel this tired.

'What time is it?' I ask mom.

'11:30. We've all been wondering when you'd wake up. Your dad told the people that were here to cut down the tree in the front to come back later so they wouldn't wake you up' mom says. We walk upstairs together.

'Hello' I say after I pick up the receiver.

'Hey Taylor, been bar hopping?' Jeremy asks.

'What?' I say.

'Have you been bar hopping? Is that why you slept so late this morning?' he asks again.

'No, for some reason my parents frown on underage drinking. I've just been super tired lately' I explain.

'Well do you think if you chug down a couple pots of coffee you could manage to come over to my house later?'

'Yeah, what time?' I ask.

'Say about five.'

'I don't know that's kind of late for a Sunday' I say.

'It won't take too long; I just want to show you a new video game I got' he says.

We agree to meet at 4:30 and say our goodbyes.

After that I let Anders out, go shower, and eat brunch. I notice the tree people have returned when I come back downstairs. Two bites into my cereal, Anders starts going crazy. I see him running around the yard, howling like his tail's on fire.

I go out to see what's going on, but all I see is the tree people conferring with dad.

'It's alright, they won't hurt you. They're just here to cut down that old oak' I assure him. This does nothing to calm him.

I pick him up and take him inside with me.

* * *

Anders' POV

Great! This is just great! Now I'm going to be dead meat when I go outside again.

Sure I tried to save the tree, but the blue jay won't care. If I had only stuck with her plan and just climbed the tree like any other normal cat would, things would have worked out fine, but oh no! I have to go and act like the wimpy, chicken-hearted little runt of the litter that I am and always will be.

Amazing. I can kill a bird, jump off a roof, and even kill a human being (if that is indeed the species to which JC belonged), but I can't climb a damn tree to save a colony of animals.

I wish there was somebody out there that could help me. Help me! Somebody come help those poor animals!

Why am I even wasting my energy thinking these thoughts? It's not like anyone will ever hear them.

Randy sets me down in the chair next to Him at the table, as if He expects me to sit there with Him.

I hiss something at Him that I won't repeat. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret saying them.

For a second, I wonder if Randy could understand what I said. He looks hurt by my behavior.

'I brought you in so you wouldn't get hurt' He explains.

Oh sure, worry about me, but screw all the animals outside who are about to lose their home. Thinking about them gets me so mad, I mouth off a little more at Randy, and feel a little less regret this time, until I see Him get up, dump the contents of His bowl down the disposal, and go sit on the couch.

He sits there, flipping through the TV channels, thinking about something. (I know He has to be thinking because He's going too fast to even see what's on TV).

I walk over there with my tail between my legs and look up at Him.

'What, do you want to cuss me out some more for trying to keep you from being cut in two by the chainsaw? Come on, let me have it. I'm sure there's still plenty of feline cuss words you haven't said to me yet' He says.

I rub my head up against his right leg in an apologetic way.

'Words hurt Anders, whether they be human or feline. I don't know for sure what you said to me, but I can imagine. Guess what? I'm mad at you now, and it's going to take a lot more than rubbing up against my leg to make up for that. It's not as if that can just make the words disappear. You said what you said, and that has to be with you forever now. Now get out of here. I don't feel like being the usual Mr. Nice Randy today' He says.

Oh dear God, what have I done? I've gone and pissed off the one human that I truly loved and cared for, and vice-versa, all so some blue jay wouldn't attack me when I go outside.

As I slink away, I hear Him mumbling under his breath. The only word I make out is "indeed", which comes at the end.

I look back at Him.

'Your innocent, big eyed, cute kitty routine isn't going to work, so beat it' He snaps.

Could I…could I have been wrong about Randy? Could he really be like…no, he's just having a bad day. Or he's not feeling well. Or am I in denial?

* * *

Randy's POV

Okay, so I was a little harsh on Anders. But he is the mouthiest damn cat I've ever heard of. He says whatever pops into his head, no matter what the consequences may be, and he needs to learn to do otherwise, and I think that this is the perfect way to teach him. He thinks he can be mad at who ever he wants to for whatever reason he wants to? Well let's see how he likes it when he's the effing something or other mother-effer.

God, what am I thinking doing this to him? He's probably going to be scared of me forever now since he has a past experiences with angry humans. I guess it would help if I was thinking but this stupid headache I've had for a while now makes that tough to do.

I think about going after him, apologizing. Maybe even giving him a whole can of tuna. No. I can't do that. How's that different from him rubbing up against my legs? No, I'm going to stay mad at him for a while. Maybe he'll think next time before shooting his big mouth off.

My thoughts are interrupted by scratching at the door.

'You're not going out Anders!' I yell. I hear a meow from the kitchen as the scratching continues. The meow meaning "It's not me, so get off my back about it." Okay, that was somewhat politer. At least he didn't call me any names.

I get up to see what/who is at the door. It's a large, grey tabby cat.

* * *

Anders' POV

I too am curious about who's at the door, so I, completely disregarding Randy's previous instructions, follow Him to the door.

I'm shocked when He opens the door and I see Tuna sitting there.

'Run for the oak!' Tuna tells me. I obey his command, and make a dash for the yard. Hey, I figure I can't be in any more trouble with Randy than I already am.

Unfortunately Randy anticipates this move and starts to close the door and inadvertently slams it shut with my hind quarters in it.

I let out an otherworldly yowl. Randy wrenches the door open and repeats some of the words I said to Him earlier, though in this case, they're not meant as insults.

He yells for His mom and keeps repeating one of those words over and over again. I turn around and give my body a once over. I'm not missing any important equipment that wasn't missing before, so I get up to head for the tree.

With each step I take, a wave of searing pain shoots up both of my hind legs. I ignore it and keep running.

One of the men by the tree starts up a chainsaw. I increase my pace despite the pain.

The man lifts the chainsaw up to the oak. I'm not going to make it.

Just when it seems all hope is lost, I see a grey blur go flying by me and start rubbing up against the chainsaw man's legs. The man kicks at him, but this doesn't deter Tuna any. Tuna jumps up onto the man's leg and starts swiping at the man's…tools, shall we say.

Through all of this, I keep going and finally make it. I come to a stop right where the tree is set to fall.

The man gets Tuna off, and starts to cut through the tree. He doesn't hear the humans' shouts to stop over the noise of the chainsaw.

Everything seems to happen in slow motion. Randy's dad is running over to stop the chainsaw man. Tuna comes running to push/drag/knock me out of the way of the falling tree, Randy comes running to get Tuna and me out of the way, Randy's mom goes running after Him. The tree starts to tilt. The man doesn't see Tim. Tuna, Randy, and Jill are all getting closer.

'MOVE!' screams Tuna as he gets closer. Not a chance in hell, not if it means this tree is coming down.

'Anders!' Randy calls, hoping I'll coming running. (Little does he know that's not possible.)

'Randy!' Jill yells. Then 'Tim! Do something!'

Tuna gets here and clamps his teeth around my collar and starts pulling. I pull back.

The tree is tipping worse now. Tim managed to get the chainsaw man's attention, but it's too late. The massive oak is going to come crashing down any second, right on top of me.

'Save yourself!' I yell to Tuna.

How does that one prayer go? Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our de-

My prayer is interrupted by Randy sliding in, baseball style, grabbing me and Tuna up in his arms, and rolling over about eight inches away from where the tree landed. As the oak lands, birds and other creatures of all sorts coming flying or crawling out.

"Praise be to God!" I think once my heart rate returns from the stratosphere and my bladder is emptied about twenty times. (Now I know what it's like to have the piss scared out of me. It's some phrase Mom used to use a lot).

Speaking of piss, I look down at Randy's shirt. Oh great, that's just going to top off His day. Now I'll really be dead meat. He sees me looking down.

'Don't worry about it. It's you two I was concerned about, not my shirt' He says between gasps for air.

'Now can you see why I didn't want you to be out here?' He asks me, still gasping. I blink once in response. (Anyone who has ever had a cat knows this means yes).

'Oh God. Oh God. I don't feel so good' Randy gasps. Jill gets over here in just enough time to hear Randy say that.

'Tim! Call 911! I think Randy's having an asthma attack!' Jill yells.

* * *

A/N: I hope everybody had as much fun reading this chapter as I did writing it.

Please R&R.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


End file.
